


Rogue Alpha

by sperrywink



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Coffee Shops, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 06:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20861666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sperrywink/pseuds/sperrywink
Summary: Stiles is assigned to Central City by the FBI. There he sees Peter and one of Peter's pack. He is not amused.





	Rogue Alpha

Too busy running for his life from the latest big bad, Stiles didn’t notice Peter had disappeared from Beacon Hills for a week. This was still a good month before anyone else noticed, so Stiles didn’t feel so bad. He wasn’t even Peter’s family. He was kind of surprised to receive a blank postcard from Central City showing a coffee shop named Jitters. Suspecting it was from Peter, he almost threw it out, but then tapped it against his lip and pinned it to his bulletin board. 

He didn’t mention it to anyone and then forgot all about it as the next big bad came rolling into town.

When Stiles was accepted into the FBI Academy, he almost felt bad about leaving Beacon Hills. Almost, but not quite. He was tired of being the token helpless human getting his ass kicked. He was looking forward to learning some decent fighting skills for coping with the supernatural and hopefully being better than your average criminal.

Afterwards, he didn’t argue hard about being posted to Central City instead of California. Scott was disappointed, but accepted it when he said he would see about getting a transfer a couple years down the line. He knew his Dad was actually happy to have him safely out of the fray even if he was sad they wouldn’t be seeing each other all that often.

After unpacking some of his clothes and laptop in his brand-new downtown apartment, Stiles headed out for some coffee and pastries. Coming across the nearest coffee shop, he stared at the sign for a good minute wondering why it looked familiar before realizing it was the coffee shop that Peter had sent the postcard from- Jitters. He looked inside and just his luck; he could see Peter inside reading a newspaper at a table in the back. “God-dammit,” he said, and stomped into the shop and towards the back.

When he got to Peter’s table, he said, “I was kinda hoping you were dead, dude.”

Peter folded the paper down to look over it and simply said, “Rude.”

Stiles leaned forward to whisper furiously, “No, seriously, how are you not dead? I thought omegas lost their sanity?”

With one of his patented smug smiles, Peter flashed his eyes at Stiles. They were bright red. 

“Son of a bitch! I need coffee to deal with this.” Stiles pointed at Peter. “Stay right there,” and made his way to the counter to order the strongest coffee they had, which was apparently called The Flash. Whatever, as long as it had multiple shots of espresso, he didn’t care how cutesy the name was.

He doctored his coffee with sugar and half and half, and then sat down in the chair opposite Peter. Peter had folded his paper and was sitting with a patient look on his face with his hands clasped together. He raised an eyebrow at Stiles when Stiles remained silent, too lost for words.

Finally, gathering his thoughts, Stiles waved one hand between them. “Alright, now talk. What are you doing here? Who did you kill to become an alpha? Why did you send me that postcard?” He took a sip of his coffee, and then looked at the cup in wonder, taking a larger sip. “Damn, that’s good coffee.”

Peter said, “Do I have that postcard to thank for you being here? Did something happen to the Beacon Hills pack? Is Malia okay?”

“No way, dude. You first.”

Rolling his eyes, Peter just sat back in his chair. Stiles frowned and tried to wait out Peter, but everyone was better with silence than Stiles, so after a torturous minute, Stiles threw up his hands again. “Fine! Beacon Hills is fine. Malia is also fine. They have nothing to do with why I’m here. I’m with the FBI now. I just got assigned here. Now it’s your turn.”

“It’s good I like you, Stiles, or else I wouldn’t say a thing. Still, how I became an alpha is none of your business. I live here now; I like the change in seasons. And I guess I was feeling… nostalgic when I sent that postcard.”

Stiles frowned at him. Peter seemed way to calm and… sane for Stiles peace of mind. “You better not be up to anything shady. I’ll find out and shoot you full of wolfsbane given half the chance.”

Stiles was expecting a snappy comeback, just not from behind him. “Now, now, it’s not very professional to threaten someone with no cause. But I guess you do-gooder types are all alike, hmm?” 

Quickly twisting around and reaching for a gun that wasn’t there since he was just going out for coffee (what an idiot he was), Stiles stared at the new addition who was twisting a third chair from the table next to them to sit calmly with his legs crossed and who was putting his coffee on the table leaving a hand around it that somehow looked threatening. He had a widow’s peak in cropped greyish hair that was distinguished and gentlemanly in a way Stiles buzzcut had never looked. Stiles looked between Peter and the new guy and when Peter just gave him a grin with too much teeth, unable to resist, Stiles kicked him in the shin. Peter hissed and pouted, and Stiles just glared back.

The new guy looked between them, and at a slight shake of the head from Peter, just asked, “We haven’t been introduced. I’m Leonard Snart and you are?”

“Stiles Stilinksi. FBI.”

“The law, how fascinating.” Now they were both grinning at him like the canaries that got the cream, or whatever that expression was. 

Stiles frowned at them. “And how do you know Peter?”

“We’re, what do you call it? Oh, yes, pack.”

Hissing, Stiles said, “You better not be turning random people again, Peter. Wolfsbane. I’m not kidding.”

Peter just raised an eyebrow and calmly took a sip of his coffee. “They haven’t been random at all. Besides, Len is one hundred percent human.”

“Then how is he pack?”

“Humans can be pack, Stiles. Or hasn’t McCall figured that out yet? Is that why you’re here and they’re there? No one invited you to the cool kids table? I did offer you the bite once upon a time, if you recall. I would be more than happy to offer again.”

“No, thank you,” Stiles replied sharply. He was comfortable in his squishy human skin, thank you very much. He looked between Peter and this Len character for another couple seconds. Both were preternaturally calm and collected and Stiles hated them a whole bunch. They did make him feel like a reject from the cool kids table, particularly since Scott had never called Stiles pack. Stiles never said anything, but it was a sore spot with him.

Just then Len looked over his shoulder, and somehow relaxed even more into his seat, which Stiles hadn’t thought possible. It was obviously all a front, but a good one. He looked over his shoulder to see a tall, thin guy walking up to their table with a scowl. “What are you doing here, Cold?”

“Hello, Red. Nice to see you too.” Stiles raised his eyebrows at the nicknames, and took a closer look at Len.

Red said, “Don’t play games with me.”

“But it’s so much fun.”

“Cold!”

“Just having coffee; nothing nefarious going on.”

“You better not be casing that new jewelry store across the street. If they’re robbed, I’ll know it’s you.”

With a wink, Len said, “You’d have to catch me first.”

“I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.” Red crossed his arms and tried to look fierce, which worked about as well as it did when Stiles tried. 

“Maybe. Maybe not. I guess we’ll find out.” 

Suddenly remembering the wanted poster in his new office, Stiles jolted in his seat and pointed at Len. “You’re Captain Cold! God dammit, Peter, what are you mixed up in now?”

With a grin, Peter said, “Just a little larceny; nothing murderous. You should be pleased. I’ve mellowed.”

“I’m not pleased. Not at all. What the hell are you doing offering me the bite again when your pack is a bunch of criminals?”

“Just giving you options, sweetheart.”

“Can it, creeperwolf.”

Red was frowning at Stiles now. “Who are you and how do you know Cold?”

Stiles frowned back. “Stiles Stilinski, FBI. Who are you and how do you know them?”

Red blinked and blushed awkwardly. “Oh! Barry Allen. CSI.” He looked more uncomfortable than Stiles felt, but Red still plowed forward with his questioning. “You didn’t say how you knew Cold.”

“I don’t. I know Peter.” Twisting around, Stiles pointed at Peter. “Who should not be hanging out with criminals!”

“Now, now, Stiles. You’re the one who called me a psychopath. You can’t fault me for the company I keep now.”

“Watch me. And I’ll be keeping an eye on you, just so you know.”

With a false smile, Peter exclaimed, “Just like old times!”

Barry said, “And I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Cold.”

Len said, “Now that that’s settled, come on, Peter. Our reservation is soon.” Standing up, Len offered a hand to Peter. Peter smiled one of his charming smiles, and took Len’s hand and let him pull him up. Once both were standing, Len tugged Peter closer and brushed a kiss across his lips. Stiles couldn’t help but think they looked sweet together and then wanted to smack himself for thinking that.

Barry looked gobsmacked, and Len winked at him as he pulled Peter towards the door. Barry said, “I can’t believe Captain Cold has a date while I’m still depressingly single.”

Thinking of Peter getting more action than him, all Stiles could say was, “Tell me about it.” Stiles just knew Peter would again be a thorn in his side. He wished Peter was still there so he could kick him in the shin again.


End file.
